


Broken

by Whuffie



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 12:07:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whuffie/pseuds/Whuffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drabble about Cullen between the time the Blight ended and he went to Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of a writing challenge which I never finished due to personal reasons. The challenge is to take a random sentence from any book and use that as the first line of your story.

_Watchers_ by Dean Koontz pg 306

“ **Do you feel well?** ”

Cullen curbed the rising surge of anger which lifted from the boil in his gut and filmed his eyes with a red rage. Of course he felt well, or as much as any man possibly could after the physical and mental tortures had raked through his mind, body, and soul. Left starving for food, nearly delusional from lack of lyrium and dehydrated, he had endured everything the Blood Mages had scourged him with. They had broken the others, but he’d managed to survive it by staying strong. The conflagration of rage came from the way the brothers and sisters were coddling him and practically tip toeing around in the bright green grass for which the Chantry was named. They had all been told why he’d been taken from Kinloch Hold once the Blight was over. He wasn’t to be trusted around the mages because he’d seen what they could do and could become. Because they weren’t knights, they didn’t understand, and were too willing to believe mages needed more rights. Only templars stood between them and the demons which could invade their bodies and ravage the decent people of Ferelden.

Greagoir wouldn’t listen. None of them would listen, not even Audrie, who had once been the mage who he was sworn to watch over. The Grey Wardens had taken her away, and again, because of Blood Magic. Was she under Jowan’s control at the time? Could she, too, be infected by a dormant demon waiting to consume her body and enter the world for mayhem and torture? She was a gateway to more than becoming an Abomination, and it was through her that his own weakness had been a doorway to personal torture. Inappropriate infatuation had been so brutally exploited that the memories made his gut turn over on itself. Once he’d convinced himself he almost loved her, but now he loathed the very thought of her. She was a mage. Better they were smothered at birth or all made Tranquil than allowed to exist.

No.

That wasn’t what the Order was about. He took a deep breath, pulling it from the bottom of his lungs to the top and allowing it to take his anger when he exhaled.

_The one who repents, who has faith,_

_Unshaken by the darkness of the world,_

_She shall know true peace._

He had repented of his sins, and the Maker knew them. The templars were meant to protect people from the mages, and mages from people in the outside world. However, it needed to be done with an iron gauntlet, not silk. Greagoir had been too easy on them, but may he be forgiven his outburst about not allowing them to live. The Maker had a reason for all things, even mages and their magic.

“Ser Cullen?” The brother asked him tentatively, reaching out to touch the templar’s yellow robed shoulder. He wasn’t allowed armor or sharp objects until everyone was certain he was stable enough for it, so dressed as one of the Chantry.

Controlling himself again, Cullen realized he hadn’t ever answered. “I’m fine. Maker turn his gaze on you.”


End file.
